Dance Magic
by Claeri
Summary: ON HOLD...Hermione is ten years old, and a ballet fanatic. The same day she is accepted at a world renowed dance school, she gets her letter from Hogwarts! Now she has to decide, dance, or magic. Please r&r!
1. Audition Day

**Auther's Note: The reason I haven't updated in so long is because I've been revising my story. Not much is changed. I took out the Hermione/Peter romance, though. It just didn't seem right to me to have a ten-year-old have a boyfriend, so I'm sorry to all you who approved. Rest assured that there will be romance later, just when Hermione's older. I've also combined the four chapters into two much longer ones. Don't worry... it's still the same story, just moved around a bit, and made more realistic!**

Chapter One: Audition Day

My mum says it's crazy for a ten-year-old to wake up at five AM, but I do anyways. Five to six is the quiet hour, when nobody is out. All the men are home from the pubs, and the mums aren't out to walk their dogs yet. Five to six is my hour, because, in my mum's words, I'm the only one crazy enough to be out.

I always wake up at four forty-six exactly. Every extra minute of sleep counts, you know. And then I dress really quiet, so mum won't wake up and yell at me for wearing my "inappropriate" shirt, outside, in public. It's my favorite shirt though. It's really old, and one day, when I was eight, it got caught in a door, and then a strip of material ripped off, all around, so the shirt only comes to right below my bra. Also, since it's so small on me, it's tight, and Mum says it really shows my figure, which is "inappropriate." Pshaw!

Anyways, after I dress, I quiet as possible sneak outside. But once I'm outside, I'm in my territory, and don't have to worry about anything. It's about a five minute run from my house to the wood, so I take that part slow, to warm up. I'm a dancer, you know, and I have to be careful not to pull a muscle or anything.

Once at the woods, I pick a trail and run for about twenty minutes, before turning around and going back home. By the time I get out of the wood, it's quarter to six, and I have to get home quick, 'cause admittedly, I don't want people to see me dressed in nothing but my little shirt and a pair of cut-off trousers.

And at home, I take a shower and get dressed in my uniform. School is an hour drive from my house, so we have to leave at half past six to get there by half seven. Then I run into the kitchen, by which time Mum is up and cooking eggs or porridge or whatnot. We eat, and I collect my book bag and dance bag, and then we leave.

I attend the Dance School. It's a school for "young ladies and men." We have normal school classes, like Literature and Maths from half seven to half eleven, and then ballet training after lunch from noon to half past six. We don't get much homework, which is nice, because by the time I get home at seven, and eat dinner, I'm exhausted, and knowing I'm going to go to be waking up early the next day, like to get to bed by half past eight at the latest.

I do my math homework in the car on the way to the School, which is one of the ways I don't die of fatigue. Mum waves good bye when I hop out of the car, and I run up to my friends.

"Hi Hermione!" they all say. Today, everyone is talking excitedly, because it's the audition day. I'm nervous already, and the auditions aren't even until three o' clock.

Today there are two different auditions. There are auditions for the show, Swan Lake, which I am going to try out for, but won't expect to get a big part in. I've only been on pointe for six months, and anyways, the leads are always gotten by older girls anyways. I would fancy being in the Polonaise or a Neopolitan (Italian), or even both. I'll probably just end up as a child at Prince Siegried's birthday party though. But I won't be Odette. At least I know that.

The other auditions are for the Academy of Dance and Arts, in London. There are six scouts who have been here for a week, watching us dance, and today everyone will perform for them, and they will pick twelve students to come and study ballet in London, starting September.

Being picked as one of the twelve to go to the Academy is what I really want. Oh, that would be wonderful! The Academy is the best in all of England, and ballerinas graduating from there always end up as lead rolls like Odette in Swan Lake, or Coppelia, or the Dew Dropp Fairy, or become famous ballet teachers, like Monsieur Bonicord, the headmaster at the Academy.

The bell rang, and we all ran to our classes. My first class is Literature, which I love. I love all academics, except Maths, but I'm brilliant (or so I'm told) at everything. I've never gotten anything below an A+.

The time that morning went by very strangely. It would speed by in double time, and then slow to half time, so by the time half past eleven arrived, I was ready to scream.

We have half an hour, between half eleven and twelve, to eat lunch and then change into leotard, tights, and warm up gear, and fix our hair into a neat bun.

I hurried out of my last class, English History, into the cafeteria, and ate a quick lunch of a salad (lettuce, tofu, tomatoes, onions and peanuts with dressing), an apple and a little carton of milk with my friends Lexi and Tara, before we sprinted to the changing rooms.

I changed out of my white collared shirt, plaid dress, blue cardigan, knee socks and loafers (I'm well aware of how absurd my uniform is) into pink tights, a sky blue leotard, blue and white striped legwarmers, and a white dance sweater, before pulling my hair into a tight bun and securing it with a scrunchy.

By the time I'm dressed, I barely have three minutes to race across the School to my warm-up class. I enter the room with Tara and Lexi close behind me, and we find spots among the other girls and boys already there.

Madame Deloney starts the class, and we go through our routines of countless trudges, relives, echappes, tonleves, and such steps, to warm up our feet. After about forty-five minutes, we change our tequnique shoes for our pointe shoes.

I took my pointe shoes out of a little bag, along with toe pads to protect my toe. I put on the toe pads, and then slip on the pointes, and lace them up. Since I've only been on pointe for six months, this is only my third pair of shoes, and they're relitively new, so a bit stiff. My first pair I got was Gambas, because they're very good beginner shoes, though they get soft very easily, and aren't very pretty. Since then, I switched to Russian Pointes, which, while less comfertable, support my foot better, and also look much nicer.

Once our shoes are on, we ran back to our spots, and did more of the same warm ups for our feet, and some other ones, for our legs, stomach, back, and arms.

At half past one, Madame Delonley's class ends. All us girls slip pointe shoe protectors, or just big socks, on over our shoes, and eveeryone puts on sweatshirts or cardigansso our muscles won't get cold on the ways to our Tequnique class. Tequnique is also and hour and a half, and normally, after Tequnique, is Partnering class at three, but today the Academy auditions are at three-thirty, and they give us half an hour to go over our dances and stuff.

When we got to Tequnique, which is taught by an old, but brilliant man called Monsieur Winters, we saw that two of the scouts from the Academy were there, which made me really nervous.

The class started with simple things, rond de jambe en l'air, glissades, and jetes, before moving to things like pirouettes, and pique turns, and then jumps, coupé jeté en tournant, tour jetes, grand jetes, sissones, and such.

Towards the end of the lessons, Monsieur Winters said, "Ah, let us partner, since your partnering class is canceled today!" He taught us a routine, and then gave us ten minutes to perfect it with our partners, before showing it before the class.

My partner was a boy called Peter Chase. He was nice, and good-looking, but more important, a very good dancer. He was twelve, nearly a year and a half older then me, but that didn't matter, because we worked well together. We perfected to routine in five minutes, and then, instead of the simple ending that Monsieur Winters had set, added a simple lift at the end, after getting the permission of our teacher.

Monsieur Winters called forwards pairs. Lexi and her partner Christopher Gillman did very well, and so did Tara and her partner, but my other friend Wendy fell off pointe on her ponche on pointe, and I saw one of the scouts look at the other and shook his head. I felt bad for Wendy, but was more nervous about me.

"Miss Granger, and Mr. Chase, your turn. Come up to the front of the room please," called Monsieur Winter. I glanced at Peter, and we walked to the front of the room, and took our positons.

Monsieur Winter signalled the pianist, Miss Engleseed, and the music started. I counted under my breath, so only Peter could hear, and we started to dance. Suddenly, it was only me, him, and the music. It had always been like that. Once I forgot that there was an audience, I could really dance, and I loved it. The ponche was perfect, I could feel the rightness of it, as my leg stretched above my head, and our tour jete was perfectly timed. I was brought back to earth, sitting on Peter's shoulder, as the whole room burst into applause. I smiled, and, to my intence excitement, saw the scouts nodding, smiling, and clapping! They were clapping for me!

The class ended, and we all trouped out, and headed to an empty practice room to stretch, and wait for our turn to try out. We would each do a solo, and then a duet with a partner, that all of us had been practicing for months.

Peter and I had choreographed our duet to be like two lovers just meeting, and I liked the way it turned out. At first, we crossed the floor at the same time, each looking at each other at different times, pretending to be uninterested, and it ended with me in his arms. It was romantic, and we both had so much fun doing it.

My solo I had choreographed to be like a little bird, that starts out little, and can't fly, but then, at the end of the dance, is a swan, and I'm leaping and twirling, and flying everywhere.

I hurried to the changing rooms, and changed into a white leotard, with a pink skirt, and put a flower in my hair. That was my costume for the duet, and for my solo, I would change the pink skirt for a white one, and take out the flower.

I hurried back to the practice room, and waited with my friends. Peter and I practiced our duet once, before Lexi and Christopher were called to audition. She didn't come back, and I figured that they were told to leave after they performed.

Finally, a pretty blond haired scout poked her head out the door and called, "Peter Chase and Hermione Granger?"

Peter and I looked at each other, before entering the room.


	2. Luck and Life

**Auther's Note: Just like Chapter One, Chapter Two has only been slightly revised. Most of the writing remains the same; I've only deleted a sentence here and there, or added one. The story is still the same, don't worry, and I promise I'll get one more chapter in before the end of September! I think... Well, yeah, I'm pretty sure I can do it, seeing as I still have a week before school starts, during which I can probably write another chappie. If I don't though, please don't kill me. Or worse, don't stop reviewing!**

Chapter Two: Luck and Life

Peter and I entered the auditorium. It was a big room, with a high ceiling, rows and rows of red velvet seats, with a large stage at one end, with a red velvet curtain. The six scouts from the Academy, and Headmaster Spinnet sat in the fifth row, all, except Headmaster Spinnet, with clipboards on their knees.

I tried and swallow the lump in my throat, and handed our music to the pianist. Peter and I went up on stage, and took our positions. I sat, my legs bent and off to the side, and pantomimed that I was reading a book. Peter stood stage left, and more upstage than me, watching me.

The music started, and I began to count under my breath. My one chance, I thought, and then mentally cleared my head. It was just me, him, and the music. I heard and felt Peter slowing walking towards me, and felt his eyes on the back of my head. The music reached a small crescendo, and I abruptly stood up with the grace only a ballerina has, closing my "book." Peter stopped, and changed his coarse, pique turning off stage.

I began to do a little dance, glissades, balances, and a few tour jetes, trying to express my simple happiness of just being alive, before I leapt off. Then it was Peter's little solo, his was more energetic, assembles, sissones, entrechats, cabrioles and such. Towards the end of it, I danced back on stage. We both did chaine turns in a curving line towards each other, and only noticed that the other is there when we are inches away. We abruptly changed direction, and piqued a little ways away, doing little steps and moves in unison, taking turns to look at each other.

Finally as the music slowed, I ended a pirouette in arabesque, before I slid down onto one knee, and Peter approached. He held out his hand, and we danced together, falling more and more in love, and ended the dance with Peter having one hand on my back, and the other on my hip, while I was nearly parallel with the floor, ankles crossed, hands on his shoulders, and Peter holding me.

We heard applause from the audience, and for a second I forgot that this was the audition.

"Thank you very much, that was wonderful," said the blond haired scout, and I felt like I was flying. That was wonderful! She actually said that! "Mr. Chase, you will be first with your solo, then Miss Granger."

The music for Peter's solo started. I switched my pink skirt for my white one, and took the flower out of my hair. The finishing touch was a gauzy white shawl that attached to the back of my leotard, and had elastics that slipped 'round my wrists, so it looked like wings.

The finishing notes of Peter's solo sounded, and the scouts clapped. My stomach turned knots, and I was shaking.

"Miss Granger, if you please?" called a scout, and I made my way back up on stage, and into my starting position, lying on the floor, arms extended in front of my head, and crossed at the wrist.

I had chosen music from Swan Lake, and as the first few notes rang through the auditorium, it was only the dance, the music, and me. My arms stretched outwards and I really felt like a little bird, and as the dance progressed, I really felt as though I could fly, leaping higher and higher until the music's last quavering notes sounded, and I "flew" off stage.

I heard Peter whistling, but paid more attention to the scouts clapping, nodding and smiling. I had done it. I was through with the audition. And more over, it seemed as though the scouts from the Academy had liked what I did. I had a fighting chance. I felt so good; I felt that I could burst.

"Thank you both for dancing, you were both wonderful. If you are accepted to the Academy of Dance and Arts then you will receive a notification by post in ten to twelve weeks," said a dark haired male scout, and then ushered us out a different door than we had entered through.

Once outside, I hugged Peter, "You were brilliant!" I cried, and Peter laughed.

"So were you," he said, "I think we both have chance of getting accepted! But imagine! Making us wait three months to find out if we made it!"

"I know," I said, shaking my head, "but at least we find out about Swan Lake on Monday. What are you trying out for?"

"Oh, I don't know," Peter answered, "Maybe Prince Siegfried!"

"Oh, yeah," I joked, "I'm going out for Odette!" We both laughed all the way back to the changing rooms, where I changed out of my swan costume and into a plain black leotard, with black legwarmers so my muscles wouldn't cool too quickly.

I found Lexi and Wendy in the cafeteria sharing a Jell-O. I sat down with them, and began to eat an energy bar as we waited for Tara to be finished with her audition. She walked in fifteen minutes later, beaming.

"I think I did well!" she said, "They applauded, and said Logan and I worked really well together!"

"Brilliant!" I said, "Wouldn't it be awesome if we all got accepted at the Academy? We could go together!" Tara and Lexi nodded enthusiastically, but Wendy shook her head.

"It would be great, but I don't think that I'm going to make it. We should never have put that bloody ponche on pointe into our duet. I can never get them right! I think I should just kiss the bloody Academy au revior!"

We didn't say anything to that, because we knew Wendy was right. She wasn't the best of dancers.

I think that we were all quite happy when the bell rang, and interrupted that uncomfortable scene. We raced down the hall to the largest practice room.

The auditions that the School holds are different then the Academy one. Monsieur Winters teaches the girls a pass, the boys a pass, and a duet to everyone who wants to audition. We have and hour to practice, and then they call us in one by one, and we dance, and then dance with Mr. Oliver if you're a girl and Mademoiselle Lisette if you are a boy.

We entered the room, and had ten minutes to warm up again. I smiled at Peter who was doing cabrioles with a friend. He smiled back.

Monsieur Winters called for our attention, and began to teach us the combinations. Mr. Oliver, and Mademoiselle Lisette demonstrated the duet between Odette and Prince Siegfried that we were to learn, and I gulped. It looked difficult. Then we were allowed to practice on our own. I practiced the pass for the female for ten minutes, but found it pretty easy, and went to find Peter for more practice on the duet.

"Hey," I said, "Want to practice the duet? Just for more practice?" He looked at me, smiling.

"That sounds like a brilliant idea," he replied. We walked over to an emptier corner of the room, and got into the starting position.

As we slowly began to mark through the steps, my attention began to wander. I imagined myself, three months from now, going out to the post box, and finding a letter in it, addressed to Miss Hermione Granger. I imagined myself opening it, and then screaming in delight when I read the first line, "Dear Miss Granger, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to the Academy of Dance and Arts…"

"Hermione? Are you OK?" asked Peter, and I nodded, blushing that he'd caught me daydreaming. We began to dance the duet fuller, and I felt sorry for Wendy because there was more then one ponche on pointe.

I felt on top of the world forty minutes later. Peter and I worked and worked, and I felt, even if we had a month, we couldn't get it better. I was only unhappy that we couldn't dance together for the actual audition, but felt it didn't matter; I could do anything.

We started to duet once more, and out of the corner of my eye saw Mr. Oliver and Mademoiselle Lisette walk towards us and stop. I ignored them, and just danced. We ended the last pose, and relaxed, surprised to hear the two watching us clapping.

"Zat vas very goot!" exclaimed Mademoiselle Lisette in her soft French accent, "I deed not expect such young dancers to be so very goot. Eef you were older, I might guarantee zat you vould be Odette and Preence Siegfried! But now, you weell steell get goot parts!" Mr. Oliver, a tall, silent English dancer said nothing, but did nod in agreement. They walked off.

"Hermione, did you hear that?" exclaimed Peter, excitedly, and flung himself on me in a hug. I laughed, and hugged him back.

"Boys and girls! Quiet please!" called Monsieur Winters, "The auditions are about to start!"

Peter and I waited half an hour. We practiced the duet more, and I concentrated all my effort on getting it just right.

"Hermione Granger?" called Mr. Oliver, poking his head in the door, "Your turn please!"

I turned to Peter. "Good luck," I said, and he smiled at me.

"I'd say the same to you, but you don't need it."

I laughed nervously.

"I'd feel better if you did," I told him.

"Well then," he replied, "Good luck."

"Miss Granger, please?" called Mr. Oliver. And with one last wave, I ran into the other room.


	3. Just Like Magic

**Auther's Note: If you haven't read the revised versions of Chapters One and Two, I urge you to do so. A few things are changed, and you might get confused. Now, go read Chapters One and Two... dum dum dum dum, dum dum dum dum... OK, now that we've all read Chapters One and two, and can start saying what I was going to say before I said what I said before. Which is: I just wrote this in one day! I did write it before the end of September. Now, enjoy! (or else)**

Chapter Three: Just Like Magic

I haven't been in Auditorium Six that many times before. It's small and not in that good of shape. The stage is pretty small, and it only holds five hundred people, so the School hardly ever uses it except for auditions. Still, despite it's small size, Auditorium Six is a nice one. The seats are all dark green and dark wood, and the curtains are entirely gold with green velvet trim. It's really pretty, and oddly comforting.

All the teachers sat in the first row, with a large folding table covered in papers in front of them. It was standard procedure, and I'd done it many times before. I knew what to do.

I climbed on stage and stood in the middle.

"Name and number?" asked Headmaster Spinnet.

"Hermione Granger, forty-seven," I said, referring to the number pinned to the front of my leotard.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," said Headmaster Spinnet. She shuffled a few papers in front of her, and then said, "You may begin."

I walked across the stage to the starting position, and nodded at the pianist to say I'm ready. The first notes rang out, and I began to dance. It wasn't hard, and I wasn't nervous. I'd done this so many times before. My teachers already knew my ability and would place me in a role that they thought suited me. I wasn't worried.

The pianist stopped playing, and I smiled at my teachers. They said nothing. Mr. Oliver climbed onstage with me, and we got in position for the pas de duex, not speaking.

The music began, and we danced. I began to appreciate Mr. Oliver's ability. He was indeed a very good dancer. If I was lucky, next term I would have him as a teacher. But Mr. Oliver only took the best into his pas class.

"Very good, thank you," said Headmaster Spinnet, when the dance was over. Mr. Oliver didn't speak, just nodded, and led me off stage. I left through a side door, leading into the hallway, not back into the studio from which I had come.

I stopped by the changing rooms to pick up my bag, and then continued on my way to the lounge. Nearly all of the forty-six people before me were there, though Lexi and Tara weren't. I didn't mind.

I put fifty p. into the vending machine, and bought a bottle of squash, before settling down on a cushion and taking out a book.

I sat there happily, relaxing and drinking my squash until it was nearly empty. Wishing there was more, I set the bottle down so as to get a sweater, since I was cold. I pulled a purple cardigan from my sport bag, and put it on. Then I picked up my book again, and reached over to take the last sip of squash.

But the bottle wasn't there. Well, there was a bottle of squash in the same place where mine had been, but it was full of squash, not nearly empty. I looked at the person next to me, a level five boy, fully consumed in heartily snogging his level four girlfriend. I didn't want to interrupt, and I some how doubted that it was his squash bottle.

On my other side was a young level one girl fast asleep. It wasn't her squash either. Whose could it be? And where had mine gone? There was no one else near me. It was odd.

I shrugged. Finder's keepers, I thought, and took a sip from the full bottle of squash. It was funny though. I had wished for more squash, and then there it was. Just like magic...

I was interrupted from my musings by the entrance of Lexi, Tara and Shoshana, a level two girl who sometimes spent time with us.

"We thought we'd find you here," said Lexi, as I got up and put my book in my bag.

"And reading, of course," scoffed Tara. I smacked her playfully on the side of her head, and she kicked me gently.

"Hi Hermione," said Shoshana, laughing at Tara and I.

"Hey Shosh," I replied, attempting to pinch Tara, as she slapped my hands away.

"Oh, you guys," Sighed Lexi, "How old are you again? Three? Come on, anyway, we were going to go outside, weren't we?"

"Oh, right," Tara said, repetitively poking me, as I danced away with my tongue out.

"Oh, _honestly_," Lexi complained. She grabbed Tara's arm, and Shoshana grabbed mine, and they pulled us from the lounge.

We settled outside under a large weeping willow, leaning against the trunk or laying on the grass. We talked and laughed, speculating who would get which part, and who we thought would get into the Academy. After a while we fell into a drowsy silence, thinking or just being.

At half four the cars began to arrive, with the mums and dads to pick up their kids. Because it was Audition day, we got out early.

My mum pulled up, and I shouted a good bye to Lexi and Shoshana and Tara as I got into the car.

I was going over to my best friend's house. Her name was Holly, and we used to go to school together, back when I went to normal school, and only took ballet classes at the local dance school three times a week. She used to dance, Holly, but only took for about six months before deciding that football was more her thing. Still, she understands how much I love ballet.

We pulled up outside Holly's house at a quarter after four, and I jumped from the car. Holly opened the front door before I was even halfway up the front walk.

"Holly!" I cried.

"Mya!" she shrieked, and we ran and hugged each other. It had been at least a month since we had seen each other last.

We went into her house, and to her room, and heard her mum talk to my mum.

Hours later we were lying in her living room, watching a movie we had seen at least a thousand times before, and drinking cranberry juice by the gallon. We weren't really paying attention to the screen. We were talking and laughing and having a good time.

And then it happened again.

I was lying on my stomach in front of the TV, and decided I wanted more cranberry juice.

"I'm gonna fetch some more cranberry juice, all right, Hol?" I asked. She looked at me strangely.

"Why? We both have full glasses," she said. I stared at her, and started to disagree, when I looked at my glass. It was full of red juice, when just a minute ago it had been empty. I closed my eyes hard, and opened them again. I still had a full glass.

"What's wrong?" asked Holly.

"N…nothing," I answered, "I could swear that my glass was empty, but I guess I was wrong."

"Yeah…"

And then our favorite part in the movie came on, and we forgot all about the juice, laughing at the actors.

I slept over at Holly's house, and was picked up by my mum at around half ten the next morning. After about ten minutes of driving, I noticed that we weren't going to our house.

"Mum, where are we going?" I asked. She smiled.

"Oh, you'll see. Sit back and relax, Hon, it's not that short of a drive."

I was happy to oblige, and leaned back into the seat, feeling my self falling into a doze.

Hours—or was it minutes?—later I was woken by my mum shaking me.

"Come one, come on, Mya. We're here! Your father's waiting."

That woke me up. My parents weren't divorced, but my dad lived in London because of his job, and traveled on business trips to places like America or Australia a lot, so I didn't get to see him that often.

I jumped out of the car, and ran to my father. He'd let go of me and given me a peck on nose before I'd noticed that we were at the seashore. I ran laughing down to the waves, but it was too cold to go in.

Instead, my parents and I had a picnic on the beach, and then, when it got late, and the sky darkened, my dad lit a bonfire, and we sat around it talking and eating biscuits. I fell asleep in my father's lap, and when I woke up, it was morning, I was in my own bed, and my father was gone.

I spent the next day reading and baking and walking in the woods. I went to bed early, and woke up the next morning refreshed and energetic.

Mum drove me to school, and dropped me off in front of the main building. Tara and Lexi weren't there yet. I spotted Shoshana, but she was with some other friends, so I pulled out one of the books that I always carried around with me. I walked over to a bench to sit down, but someone's dance bag and book bag were sitting on it. I gently put them on the concrete, and sat down.

Five or so minutes later, I felt a shadow fall over me. I looked up. The girl standing in front of me was in level four. I forgot her name, but I knew she was obnoxious and rude. Sure enough…

"Er, excuse me," she said, her tone conveying no politeness at all, "Did you move my stuff?"

"Oh, yes, because there wasn't anywhere else to sit," I explained.

"And so you just put my stuff on the _ground_?" she asked, in a tone of utter disbelief.

"Well, you see, there wasn't anywhere else to put them," I said politely.

"Bloody idiot," I heard her say, before she walked away.

I remembered her name: Lauren Jane Wallman. I remembered people saying not to get on the wrong side of "LJ" as they called her. Well, she could do nothing to me. Nothing at all.


End file.
